I’ve long considered myself a traveler with no real static “home”. Everywhere I go, I leave a piece of myself and gain something new; experience, friendship, a love of something I didn’t know existed. In years of nomadic life, I’ve come to find a sense of home in the pages of notebooks, the blinking cursor of a clean white screen, and the shutter click of my camera. I’ve always felt these to be my sacred spaces, and have kept them all to myself… until now. After all, what good is a home if it’s not shared? So come on in. Pull up a chair and a cup of coffee, and get cozy. Welcome home.